


Quarantine Funk!

by followyourenergy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: At-home schooling during pandemic, Embarrassed Dean Winchester, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Playful Dean Winchester, Quarantine, Single Parent Dean Winchester, Stay-at-Home Parent Dean Winchester, Teacher Castiel (Supernatural), Videographer Dean Winchester, caught on camera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 19:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Dean Winchester is unemployed, living with his brother, and taking care of three kids, all during quarantine. Life has gotten small and a little lonely, so why not have some fun when he can? That fun comes while his daughter, Bea, is making one of her many videos. He has no problem hamming it up to “Uptown Funk” in the privacy of their home—he loves making her and his niece and nephew laugh.Or, he doesn’t have a problem until he finds out she sent the video to her very hot teacher, Mr. Novak.Then he has a BIG problem.Castiel Novak’s life is small, too. He lives alone, and outside of his class time with his students, he doesn’t smile much. That changes when he gets a video from one of his students. Watching her silly dad in the background, he not only smiles, but laughs. He’d love to have someone like him in his life. He doesn’t have any hope of that, but he does hope that maybe Dean would be willing to share the video to spread the cheer around.Could bringing joy to a weary world bring joy to two  lonely souls, too?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 86
Kudos: 123





	Quarantine Funk!

**Author's Note:**

> When MalMuses shared [this Facebook video](https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10157515811041232&id=596076231&_rdr), I had to write a Destiel dad fic about it. Check out the video; it’s adorable! And check out Mal’s fics (have you not read Mal’s stuff yet? Why not?) [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/pseuds/MalMuses)! This one’s for you, Mal, and for all the parents and teachers trying to navigate school in a whole new way. ❤️
> 
> This will update on Fridays! 😊

Dean Winchester watches affectionately as his six-year-old daughter, Beatrix, fiddles with the screen she’s in front of nearly constantly these days. Dean, though a fan of screens himself, wouldn’t ordinarily allow so much screen time, but the pandemic has her doing school remotely and yes, sometimes, he needs a break from all the constant _togetherness_. He loves her—God, he loves her—but there’s only so much he can take without a little intermission.

Bea doesn’t just stare passively at the screen, though. Yes, she plays games or watches movies and shows, but a lot of the time, she uses the screen as her platform, her audience. She is the star of many of her own productions, including such classics as _Watch Me Do Somersaults in the Living Room, Daddy!_ and _How to Wear All the Clothes in Your Closet in Five Minutes_. Today she’s playing school, a game she loves, and the screen is her classroom of undoubtedly eager, well-behaved students.

“So today we’re going to be doing some crafts,” she tells the screen. Of course, the _artiste_ cannot simply perform—she needs music. “Alexa, play _Kids Bop_ ,” she calls out. 

Ah, _Kids Bop_. Dean could sing most of the songs in his sleep. But she loves it, and he loves her (and doesn’t have the energy to say no, anyway), so he lets it be.

He usually ignores the music—or tries to—but he likes this one. It’s “Uptown Funk,” and damn it, it’s catchy. Those first funky notes get right into his soul and don’t let go. His head starts bobbing involuntarily. It feels good. It’s been a rough week—it’s been raining, the kids have been cranky, and he’s been dying for a little adult social interaction. Being an extrovert during a pandemic is _hard,_ and when most of the people you interact with daily are kids, it’s even harder. Man, he’d love to kick back with a beer and a burger and a special someone. Or, hell, _anyone_ he’s not living with who’s old enough to drink. Mmm, scratch that—anyone over thirty who’s old enough to drink. At thirty-nine, he has no desire to hang out with twenty-one-year-olds.

He doesn’t have anyone like that around right now, but he can still have fun. Bea loves to watch her videos after (and make him watch them), so he figures he’ll make this one extra entertaining by adding some of his sickest dance moves. 

He begins with simple stuff—some clapping and sloppy vogue-ing—to warm up. He sinks behind the kitchen island for a minute, then makes his dramatic re-entrance with some snazzy modified jumping jacks and shoulder shimmies. 

Bea carries on with her glitter glue, completely oblivious.

He blows a kiss to the camera in time with the _Gotta kiss myself, I’m so pretty_ line. That’s his favorite line—that and the _I’m too hot_ line, which he acts out with flailing hands and a well-timed “Psst, ahh!” like he’s just burned himself. Yeah, he’s good. 

His daughter appreciates none of it.

Even his _Hooo!_ s when the girls hit their hallelujahs don’t work.

Well, if she won’t appreciate his fine choreography, he knows Izzy, his brother Sam’s two-year-old daughter, will.

He picks her up and lifts her in front of him, facing her toward the screen for her guest starring role. She giggles as he shakes her around to the music. It makes him giggle, too. He misses Beatrix being that little. 

Sam’s son, nine-year-old Spence, wants to get in on the action and needs no prompting to insinuate his way into Bea’s video and goof around, _Hoo_ ing like a champ.

Bea just keeps on teaching her art class.

Dean decides he needs to step up his game. He steps into the camera’s view with Izzy, screeching high-pitched nonsense noises and practically launching Izzy at Bea until Bea’s concentration breaks and she giggles. _That’s_ what he wanted. 

She goes right back to her video-making, though, the unflappable kid, so Dean hams it up with Spence and Izzy in the background, dancing like robots and swinging Izzy toward the ceiling, to her squealing delight.

He swings her a little _too_ hard, making her feet hit the fluorescent light above their heads. _Whoops_. He apologizes to Bea and reassures Izzy she’s okay so that she doesn’t start wailing.

Through it all, Beatrix is cool as a cucumber, never breaking stride even as they do their silly best to distract her. It’ll be a fun video to watch, the serious teacher and the rowdy “students.” 

When the song is over, she stops her video and presses a few buttons to save it. It’s amazing how tech-savvy she is at her age.

“Okay, kiddo, get all that cleaned up,” he says once she’s finished. “Give me your paper to dry. You clean up that glitter. You know the rule.”

“You use glitter, you clean up glitter, because Daddy will throw it away if he gets his hands on it,” she recites.

“That’s right.”

“That’s so mean!”

“I’m mean. Give me your paper.”

Dean takes the piece of wet, wrinkled copy paper, covered with a circle that looks like it’s supposed to be a Christmas ornament or a beach ball or who knows what, and lays it on an empty shelf in the playroom they use for just this purpose. 

They do the evening routine they do every night—dinner, bath, stories, bed. Despite how boring and repetitive the days can be nowadays, Dean still finds the routine comforting. It’s something from _before_ —something before a worldwide pandemic, something before he lost his job, something before they had to move in with his little brother. Of course, these days he’s doing three bedtime routines, more often than not, since Sam is working a lot. Still, the steady rhythm of the routine lends some normalcy to a life that feels anything but right now.

When everyone is tucked in and the house is silent, Dean sits down with a beer and a plan to watch some TV. He figures he should check his email first, though, to see if he got any response from his latest round of job applications. 

There are none.

He sighs.

It’s then that he notices Playground is up and, well, he might as well see how his best girl is doing. Parent-teacher conferences are coming up, and he wants to know just how much basking in his daughter’s awesome glory he’ll be able to do. He’s so damn proud of her. School was always a struggle for him (they moved around so much, he hardly had time to really settle in), so to see Bea excelling in a great school, a _private_ school, even...it does his heart good. When he lost his job, thinking about having to pull her from Edgewood Academy was more upsetting than the loss of income. But the academy offered some help and Sam stepped in with the rest, covering Bea’s tuition in exchange for taking care of Izzy and Spence. It was a great deal, in Dean’s book.

He peruses the grades page— _straight As, that’s my girl_ —then clicks over to the messages tab to double-check the date of his parent-teacher conference. He knows it’s in his correspondence with Bea’s teacher, Mr. Novak. 

Mr. Novak. Good Lord, is that man _beautiful_. He’s got the looks—dark hair, tanned skin, bright blue eyes that make him want to prostrate himself at the man’s feet—but it's his dry sense of humor, adorable seriousness, and ineffable sincerity and interest in the kids that really make him attractive. Mmmm. What he wouldn’t give to share a beer and a burger with _him_. Private school teachers are way out of his league, but he can dream.

Dean checks the _Sent_ folder. There’s a new outgoing message from _Beatrix Winchester_ , which isn’t that surprising since there are many of them, but it’s the time that confuses him.

It was just a couple of hours ago.

He clicks on it.

_Oh God. Nonononononono._

She sent the video.

 _That_ video.

To her hot teacher (and to a couple of other teachers, but who cares about that because _she sent it to her hot teacher that I have to meet with_ ).

In a panic, he looks for a way to recall the message, but it’s too late.

The damage is done.

He groans, resting his head on his folded arms.

* * *

Castiel Novak, exhausted first grade teacher, sits at his new-to-him desk in his new-to-him office. He cleaned out the guest room that was used for storage once it was clear that they wouldn’t be going back to in-school learning for a long while. His usual spot for doing his after-school work and planning used to be his living room, but if he was going to be working from home for an extended period, he didn’t want to do it in the same place where he drank beer and watched Skinemax. He opens the Playground app, their online learning portal, and smiles. Beatrix Winchester has sent him another video.

Every teacher wants a student (or twenty) like Beatrix. She is inquisitive, kind, and creative, and she makes friends easily. Her kindergarten teacher said that she was a joy to have in class last year, always helpful and friendly to her classmates and teachers. Castiel has no doubt about that. He wishes he could’ve had her in his classroom in person for longer than the first two months of the new school year, but the school decided it was in their students’ best interest to do remote learning through the winter as the pandemic raged on.

All of his students send in their assignments via Playground, but a few of them send him other things—art, stories, their scores on whatever game they’ve been playing, little videos of themselves. Beatrix sends videos, way more than any of his other students, and they’re often very sweet—saying goodnight or hello, reading him a story, showing him her stuffed animals. Sometimes she’ll make him “school movies”, in which she is the teacher and is instructing him or one thing or another. It was an assignment he gave the class once, and she just never stopped doing them. He watches every video because he feels it’s important to encourage students’ creativity and to foster rapport. He believes that truly connecting with his students transforms the learning in positive ways.

He starts the video.

Bea informs him that they’re going to be doing some crafts today. Despite being a first grade teacher, “crafts” are not his strong suit—he usually lets the art teacher do anything more complicated than crayons. _But how will you get better if you don’t try?_ he tells himself with a chuckle. It’s something he would say to his students. He settles in to learn.

Oh, and there’s going to be musical accompaniment. 

As the music begins and she’s running through what he’ll need for the activity—a unicorn stamp, for starters, which he certainly doesn’t have at home—a man appears in the background. A dancing man. A very handsome dancing man.

Bea’s father.

He’s never met him in person—they did the usual beginning-of-the-year parent-teacher meet and greets via video, and when they were attending school in person, the drop-off and pick-up hand-offs were handled by other staff. He’s heard him many times, though, his deep voice rough yet gentle when instructing his daughter on this or that as she logs on for class. Mr. Winchester’s always been very good with her, just the right mix of helpful without hovering, kind but expectant. 

Castiel watches, fascinated and amused, as Mr. Winchester shimmies around the kitchen while Bea carries on with her unicorn stamp—no, colored glue now—as if her father dancing around the kitchen is completely normal. 

It must be, because Bea says “That’s my dad” in such a blasé manner when her father pretends to burn himself because he’s “too hot” (Castiel certainly wouldn’t argue with that assessment) that it’s absurdly comical. He laughs.

Two more children make an appearance—a little one, maybe one or two, and an older child. Their appearance seems to get her attention, because she asks “What is wrong with this family? I’m just trying to do arts!” Castiel laughs again, enjoying his student’s loving exasperation. 

When the older child comes into view again, he recognizes him as Spence Winchester, a student of his from a few years ago—two, maybe three? Has it been that long? She introduces him as her cousin, and he remembers then that Bea told him they were staying with her uncle and cousins. That makes more sense, as when he first saw the children, he was confused because he could’ve sworn she was an only child.

Mr. Winchester and the smaller child come into the frame and make Bea giggle, which is just adorable. He feels like his kids aren’t laughing as much as they should. Hell, _he’s_ not laughing as much as he should. Damn pandemic.

As her father relegates himself to background dancer once again, Bea says that she is making the video because she misses her teachers and she wants to bring some “Christmas cheer.” It chokes Castiel up a little. He hasn’t felt very cheerful recently, but this...this is cheering him up quite nicely.

Bea continues on, moving to the most important part of the project: the glitter. Glitter is an undesirable but inevitable part of his job. “Next you can grab the sparkles which my dad hates but that’s fine,” she chirps, which makes him chuckle. He can definitely sympathize.

The video ends a short time later, but Castiel keeps smiling even after it’s over. He’s been so lonely, so stressed and frustrated, and he knows many of his colleagues have felt that way, too. This video has brightened his day.

He sees that Donna and Sarah were both sent the same video, so he messages them in a group chat:

_Cas 6:47pm: Did you see the video from Bea W.?_

_Sarah 6:52pm: Just watched it! Ha! So cute! Also, can I say how proud I am that she’s doing art at home <3 _

_Cas 6:52pm: Yes you can ha ha_

_Donna 6:54pm: I’m watching now_

_Donna 6:55pm: OMG_

_Donna 6:55pm: So cute!_

_Donna 6:56pm: Ooh, Dad’s cute_

_Donna 6:56pm: Funny too lol_

_Cas 6:56pm: The boy was my student a few years ago_

_Sarah 6:57pm: Yes, Spence. I still have him, obviously. Funny kid._

_Donna 6:59pm: Ahh, so funny! We should show that to everyone! Lift some spirits!_

_Cas 7:00pm: We should ask permission first. I’ll ask Bea’s father. We’re meeting next week for PTCs._

They talk a bit more, then Cas excuses himself from the chat. He showers, takes out his freshly-baked bread from the breadmaker (yes, he’s made lots of bread during quarantine), and slathers a slice with blackberry jam (after flapping his fingers around because _ouch, it’s hot_ ), then settles at his desk with the bread and a determination to get through his grading so he can have his Sunday free. Not that he has anything to do. Or anyone to do anything with. He sighs, watches the video again, and smiles once more, then rolls his shoulders and gets to his task.

**Author's Note:**

> Aww, poor, embarrassed Dean! But isn’t he cute? And Cas! 🥺
> 
> Find “Uptown Funk” by Mark Ronson ft. Bruno Mars [here](https://youtu.be/OPf0YbXqDm0)
> 
> And the Kidz Bop version [here](https://youtu.be/W7-L6CuAIn4)


End file.
